


If You Think About It An Entire Bottle Is Technically 'One Glass'

by volpeanon



Category: Prototype (Video Games)
Genre: Angst and Feels, Cross Lives Bitch, M/M, Post-Game, drunk admissions of not thinking someone is a total monster, hints at a drink problem, only really shippy if you squint i GUESS but squinting is required in my gay-ass house, tentative moment of bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-08
Updated: 2020-01-08
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:20:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,390
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22176196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/volpeanon/pseuds/volpeanon
Summary: Alex would just like to figure out what made Blackwatch's best turn to the thing he should have hated.
Relationships: Robert Cross/Alex Mercer
Comments: 9
Kudos: 56





	If You Think About It An Entire Bottle Is Technically 'One Glass'

This wasn't what Alex had expected. These military types were all the same, and although Cross did a good job of affecting that casual, offhand demeanour that Alex found so likeable, all the telltale signs were there. He stood like a soldier - not just the straight back and wide shoulders, but the underlying readiness he hid so well behind his easy, swinging gait. He gave orders, even if he pretended they weren't. He was just like the rest of them at his core. 

So when Alex's keen eyes adjusted to the dark apartment, lit in stripes by the orange streetlights outside shining through the half-closed blinds, and he saw the figure sprawled on the sofa with one arm thrown across his eyes and the other hanging down, holding a bottle at a precarious angle on the ground, he stopped. For a split second, he thought;  _ it's not him _ . But it had to be. Smelt like him. The apartment smelt of whoever had abandoned it; Cross clearly never stayed in one place long enough to make an impression, so it was definitely the body on the couch that smelt of human, virus, gunpowder, new kevlar, metal, and... various liquors.

He paused, hand still on the open door. He hadn't expected Cross to be here. He just wanted to know, was all. He found himself trusting Cross, to a certain extent; tentatively enjoying his company even, but there were things about the captain that were too contrary, or shadowed, and that made Alex wary. But now he felt weirdly like he was intruding.

"That better be you, Mercer." Cross didn't take the arm from over his eyes. Alex's curiosity was only piqued by the response, given that he could feel the rapid beat of Cross's pulse in the air - so slowly he shut the door behind him and took silent steps into the room.  Upright in a flash, the bottle spilling, a knife appearing in Cross's hand from somewhere. Alex stopped. The man let out a heavy breath, smelling of adrenaline. "Jesus, you couldn't just say 'yes'?"

"... Sorry." Alex watched him lean down to right the bottle, taking in every little movement. There was a lag, a looseness that was different from the carefully controlled, sure-of-himself swing that he usually moved with. The captain sighed, dragging a hand down his face, and took a swig from the bottle. Alex’s eyes followed everything. "You allowed to drink on duty?"

Cross gave him a slightly scathing look. He said "Do I look like I’m on duty?" and took another drink.

Ignoring the scathing bit, Alex took the opportunity to probe. "I figured you guys were always on duty when there’s infected all over the streets. Is it worth showing up drunk if there’s a quarantine breach or something and they call you in?"

"After everyone you’ve eaten, there has to be enough to tell you why people drink when they shouldn’t."

"Sure. Doesn't tell me why  _ you're  _ doing it, though."

Cross gave a single, humourless ‘ha’, the bottle paused on his open lips. "I keep telling myself it'll help this time." he murmured.

"This time?"

There was a pause. Cross fixed Alex with suspicious eyes. "Did you eat a therapist recently? Is there a point to any of this?"

"Probably. I know barely anything about you, but you know plenty about me. Fair's fair."

"Nothing's ever fair, and I'd like to keep it that way."

"Fine, then I'll consume you and not have to worry about you lying, either."

Cross didn't bat an eyelid. "You shouldn't make threats you're not going to follow up on."

"How do you know I won't?"

"Because I trust you."

That caught Alex off guard, so visibly that Cross raised an eyebrow. "You think I'd ever have showed you my face if I didn't?"

"I-" Alex stumbled awkwardly over his surprise, looking away - so he didn't see the way Cross's eyes changed.

"I was there when you took Parker, you know." Cross twirled the bottle between his palms "I was watching from a roof, we had her bugged. Goddamn military vehicle. That was her idea, a last 'fuck you', I guess. But then you drove that thing like it was- you didn't hit  _ anyone _ , some idiot tripped right in front of your wheels and you hit the breaks. And then you took out a hive like you were stopping for a coffee. I couldn't believe it, I radioed back to find out where the hell you'd gone and they said 'he's helping the Marines'."

He remembered that. He remembered cussing out the people running wild with terror as he drove through a fresh outbreak, infected on the streets and Marines with no idea how to confront what they were facing. What could he do? They had no backup, they were screaming to him, hope on their blood-streaked faces. "No one was helping them."

"I had orders not to engage. You know what McMullen said when I reported it? He said you must've been feeling territorial. Like a dog."

"Sounds like McMullen."

"Yeah. Didn't sound like you, though. You sounded like-… I've been there. When you're the only one with a level head and no one's  _ listening _ to you, and if they won't listen you can't help them but it still feels like your fault when they go down."

Alex took a deep breath. He wasn’t sure how he liked having a Blackwatch explain his own feelings so perfectly. "But that was before you injected me."

Cross's shoulders tensed up a fraction, and he resorted to the bottle, its contents running low. He could fit a lot into one mouthful. "Yeah. Orders are orders. I've killed things that were still human before."

"Then what  _ changed? _ " He took a step forward, and Cross went tight;  _ still afraid _ . Pain and fear left the most vivid memories, the kind that muscles held onto. It would take time for Cross’s body to forgot what Alex had done to it. Nothing would make his mind forget what Alex had done to his Wisemen. 

Alex kept himself still, and watched Cross make a concerted effort to seem relaxed.

"All of Manhattan, because one man couldn't see straight. Randall didn't make bad decisions, but he did make the wrong ones. And you…" his hazy eyes stared unseeingly at the window, the lights of the other apartment block beyond. The bottle was loose in his fingers, dipping-

Alex caught it before it could fall, Cross startling again but less this time - he loosened up faster. Alex put the bottle carefully on the floor and sat down on the other end of the couch. He gave Cross an expectant look, which Cross didn't hold. He was slouched, elbows on knees, dragging a hand down his face again.

"I kept listening to those stupid recordings." he breathed. His eyes were almost closed, heavy with the alcohol. He put his chin into his hand, swaying slightly as he leant on it. "In the tank. You sounded like anyone would, trying to get on with a mess they didn't ask for. And I felt like- I could've cheered you on by the end of it. Even after..." it hung, just as potent for being unsaid. _Even after I tried to kill you and you killed my men._

What the hell was there to say to that? Alex watched him lull, exhausted and drunk and- soft looking, that was it. And something about it made an ache in Alex's chest he didn't understand.

He suddenly realised Cross was looking at him, and managed to look back, finding he didn't quite mind the silence - at least not as much as he'd thought he would. But then Cross's eyelids were drooping again. Alex didn't want to go.

"You're about to pass out." he stood up, the couch groaning in relief "I'll come back in the morning, consume you then."

Cross managed a sleepy laugh, but it was more genuine than anything Alex had heard from him before. "I'll hold you to that."

As he left, he heard Cross lying down on the couch, and letting out a sigh that sounded already asleep. Pausing, he turned one finger into a tendril, sending it into the keyhole as he had done to get in, and locked the door behind him before he made the laborious journey out.


End file.
